


The Longest Time

by Another_Freak1258



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (horribly kept) secret relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Background Case, Benny is a gentleman, Benny loves the Gameshow Network, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Blood Drinking, Bottom Dean, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Dean wants love but he's stupid, Dean's honestly so in love, Feeding Kink, Gentle Sex, Implied/Referenced Sex, Let Dean Winchester Have Nice Things, M/M, Monster prejudice, Poor Benny, Rimming, Sam is a Little Shit, Sam is butthurt over Amy probably, Season 8 rewritten with Denny, Tags May Change, Vampires, a little fluff, benny texts dean and its cute, bittersweet but hopeful ending, dean is a blood whore pass it on, focuses on benny's nature, focuses on their dynamic, takes place before episode 5: blood brother
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-02-28 09:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13268121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Another_Freak1258/pseuds/Another_Freak1258
Summary: It had to be some cosmic joke, Dean Winchester falling in love with a monster.





	1. I said to myself, 'hold on to your heart'

**Author's Note:**

> this chapter is more of a preface than actual plot. chapter 2 will be far longer and will have actual plot

Benny’s unlike anyone Dean’s ever met in a lot of ways. For starters, he’s never completely bought the idea of a ‘ _good monster_ ’—an oxymoron he and Dad had laughed about before—no matter how many they happened to run into. There’s obviously a line you’ve got to draw at some point, regardless if they’re a ticking bomb or not, but there’s always been that lingering doubt. Monsters might not be necessarily evil, but they sure weren’t created to help little old ladies across the street or anything.

 

But Benny? Benny’s a walking anomaly as far as Dean’s concerned. When they had first met it was clear as day that Benny was a vampire. From his movement, the predatory eyes, and the cocking of his head. Purgatory induced, prompted, _conditioned_ those things, though. Dean didn’t of Benny as anything but a means to an end: find Cas, get out of purgatory, kill the vampire, and meet up with Sam. Plain and simple. Black and white.

 

 _However_.

 

You can only hang around someone so long before you get attached. Normally Dean wouldn’t have any issues abandoning ship for something as measly as a friendship formed in _Purgatory_ of all places, with a _vampire_ of all things. But it is a little different when that person you’re hanging around is saving your ass left and right. It’s a little different when you start patting each other, getting familiar, and then when one thing leads to another—Well, give them an inch and they’ll take a mile, as the saying goes.

 

It couldn’t have been more than a few months before their partnership quickly transcended friendship and skyrocketed into sexual territory. Benny didn’t exactly initiate it as much as alluded to, along with the various monsters they interrogated together. Those comments weren’t received well at all, and if Dean remembers correctly he renewed his promised to shove his knife up Benny’s ass if he continued. That seemed to shut him up finally.

 

It all started to get fucked up when Dean started associating Benny with friendship, funny enough. Because friendship meant Benny was a person in his eyes. Stripping away his inherent monster status meant acknowledging him as strong, thoughtful, kind, protective, funny, and most alarming of all: _attractive_. Instead of giving Benny dubious, suspicious glares, he started looking at him with fondness. Instead of his fingers inching for a machete when Benny brushed past him, Dean ached to press his body against that supernaturally strong, built form. 

 

And wasn’t that so unfair? Dean’s convinced it’s some sort of cosmic joke played on him, because as far as his dick was concerned, Benny checked a lot of boxes for what he usually goes for—when Dean’s in the mood for a male partner, anyway. Benny’s big hands and broad shoulders were already swoon-inducing, but Dean quickly found himself ensnared by the charming, Southern twang. Not to mention how Dean knew Benny could handle him around so roughly, maybe even kill him without meaning to. _That_ was alarmingly hot.

 

Dean met his breaking point after a brutal battle with a pack of werewolves. He’d enjoyed the adrenaline aspect of hunting before, but in Purgatory it was a much more prominent thrill in his bones. Dean attributes said adrenaline high to the reason why, after they iced the pack together, he looked at Benny with madness in his eyes and a feeling of heady arousal. Benny had raised a brow, moving closer, and drawled with dark eyes, “You think your blood’s bad then ya sure won’t like what’ll come runnin’ if your smellin like _that_ , brother.”

 

With speed that could rival a vampire’s, Dean didn’t waste another moment before shoving Benny back against a tree and connecting their lips. 

 

Looking back, it was a very stupid and reckless decision, especially if what Benny said was true. But in the moment it was _euphoric_. It’d been so long since he’d taken a roll in the hay, much less with a guy, so when Benny flipped them around and started to rut their hips together, Dean came within a minute. 

 

These encounters happened very frequently, and it was Dean initiating it the majority of the time. The feeling of regret, disgust, or guilt Dean thought he might feel afterwards never came. There was something simple about Purgatory that almost made it feel normal. It was so separate from earth that Dean didn’t give much thought to the future of their arrangement, instead focusing on the present for once in his life.

 

Dean had a growing suspicion Benny didn’t exactly feel the same way. There were many times they’d pull away from each other, and the vampire looked at him longingly. Sadly. Benny never elaborated beyond his expressions, though. Dean was thankful for that at the time, being a professional at ignoring the problem until it came back to bite him.

 

Everything changed when they found Cas.

 

There were no more spontaneous romps, no more shoving each other to the ground for a quick blow. No kisses. 

 

As happy as Dean was to have Cas back, he was endlessly bothered by how his two friends couldn’t seem to agree on anything. They constantly bickered, leaving no room for any of the wonderful conversations Benny managed to drag out of Dean when it was just the two of them. It was very apparent they didn’t get along, and even more apparent that Benny didn’t bother trying. What ever distasteful feeling that brought was completely evaporated when Benny saved Cas from the Leviathan. That was undoubtedly the moment Dean subconsciously concluded Benny was nothing but a good man. 

 

That living-in-the-moment shit blew up in his face when it came time to part ways, topside. Dean silently hoped Benny wouldn’t mention it, and beat down anything he wanted to admit with his classic Winchester-suppressing skills. 

 

It was all going perfectly platonic until Benny lingered in Dean’s embrace, those big hands slipping down to the small of his back. “Benny,” he’d sighed, pulling away literally _and_ emotionally. “Look, man, not here. It, uh... What we did was great, some of the next damn sex I’ve ever had. But. We can’t work like this up here. Honeymoon’s over.”

 

Benny snorted, but his eyes didn’t hold any mirth. “You givin’ me the cold shoulder now, my frigid wife?” Much like Dean, Benny seemed to use humor when he was trying to play things off. 

 

“Benny, I’m sorry. You know I care a lot about you but it’s gotta be a lot different now.” 

 

“Why’s that?” Benny’s tone was challenging, a hair short from bratty. “I was under the impression you had a higher opinion of me.” 

 

Dean shook his head forlornly. “Benny, Don’t say that. It’s not my opinion that’s the problem...” He left the rest unspoken, because Benny surely knew what he was referring to. A quiet moment passed, no words interrupting the distant hymn of crickets. “I wish it was different,” the hunter offered, mumbling the words so softly he’s sure Benny only heard because of supernatural powers.

 

“Don’t think I was under any illusions,” Benny grumbled unhappily. “I just... I just wish...” He stepped forward a pace or two, grasping the sleeves of Dean’s jacket and tugging him closer. Benny’s blue eyes flickered to his empty grave. Dean wondered if he was thinking of another unhappy ending he had with another human. “I just wish, too.” 

 

“... _Benny_...” Dean weakly tugged against Benny’s grip, surrendering when the vampire looked back at him with such fierce affection it left him in awe.

 

They stare into each other’s eyes far too long for it not to be considered a chick flick moment, but Dean didn’t pull away again. He let Benny cup his face, hiding the fact it summoned goosebumps. Next came one of the more passionate kisses he’s ever received, straight out of a chick flick. It felt like a million unspoken words and promises traveled all the way from Benny’s heart and flowed into him. 

 

Dean could’ve gotten more lost with that kiss than at sea if it wasn’t bothering him how different Benny felt. His hand, his lips, his _tongue_ so frighteningly cold. His muscles stiffer, skin without elasticity. In Purgatory it wasn’t noticeable by touch (i.e. Benny’s nature) but then again that was his soul, not his real body.

 

Fleetingly, Dean’s mind recalls a distant memory of a hateful jeer. Himself, spitting at a vampire that having sex with her would be akin to necrophilia.

 

This prevalent reminder of what Benny really is urges him to end the kiss and brings Dean back to reality. The reality where he’s a hunter, and Benny’s a vampire, and that this can’t happen. 


	2. I'll take my chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon Sam’s discovery of Benny, the Winchester brothers are more at odds than they have been in years. While working a case together, the tension escalates into a full-fledged argument. Sick of Sam’s judgement and hypocrisy, Dean decides they need to take a break and bails, sending him straight into Benny’s tempting arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you everyone for your lovely & supportive comments! they inspired me to write more than I planned to so I’m happy to say this story will be three chapters! i hope you love this chapter just as much as the last, if not more. I tried really really hard to make everyone as in-character as possible. Also, Benny speaks a teeny bit of french here. I’m a french student so please bear with me & feel free to correct me on anything if you know better. Enjoy!

**_[SENT 10:31AM] DEAN: It’s too sunny in Louisiana._ **

 

Dean reads over his message a few times before pressing send. As he goes to slide the cellular back in his pocket, a nasty sun glare catches the screen and causes the hunter to spill a portion of his coffee on himself when he flinches. “Dammit,” he cusses, looking down at the dampening fabric of his flannel. He’s only wearing two layers today, due to the heat, so the coffee quickly comes in contact with his skin.

 

Setting both his phone and coffee on the top of the Impala, Dean begins to dig around in the duffle he was too lazy to bring into the motel the night before. Lazy after a irritating tiff with Sam that left him half-certain he’d be better off leaving his duffle in the car as to make a hasty exit in the dead of night. Dean can only imagine how a stunt like that would’ve fueled the fire...

 

Said tiff is also the reason he’s currently parked outside a Gas-N-Sip, propped against the side of his car, eating breakfast alone. Bored and troubled, texting Benny.

 

It was only a short time after their return to the land of the living when Benny called him. Dean had previously thought all form of communication between them would end up being in person—or by friggin carrier pigeon, who knows—due to the fact Benny had apparently missed the invention of the mobile phone. The concept of a “cellular telephone” was so boggling and unsettling to the vampire that Dean didn’t bother setting Benny up with one because it probably wouldn’t get used. But with phone booths and landlines still around, Dean left his number just in case Benny needed to contact him for whatever reason. ( _Although_ , Dean muses,  _it would be absolutely hilarious to gift Benny a smartphone. He wouldn’t get past his own lock screen._ )

 

After phone calls became a regular occurrence, the texting began. To Benny’s credit, he figured it all out on his own, but that made Dean wonder if he had someone assist him or not. That mental image was hilarious, too.

 

Benny’s messages ranged between good-mornings/goodnights, to accidentally sent pictures, to midnight ramblings about the strangeness of this world. Dean surprised himself by how he didn’t mind the distraction. He’d never been big on texting, probably due to the lack of a phone in his teen years and a general lack of friends to text. But Benny listened to him vent and offered a very unique and untapped perspective in their friendly disputes. It was kind of nice, knowing he had a reliable friend to talk to whenever he wished, only a dial button away. Unfamiliar, but nice. Addicting.

 

There was also the constant assurance from the vampire that he wasn’t interrupting anything, wasn’t bothering him in any way. Dean was usually forced to adapt and plan around other people, so it was bracing to be the exigent one for once. Benny never complained about delayed responses or ill-timed conversations, he just waited patiently.

 

This long distance arrangement of...  _Whatever_  was wonderful and refreshing,  _Benny_  was wonderful and refreshing. Except it’s hard to hide a pen pal from your little brother—nosey or not—when you practically live in each other’s pockets, and especially when  _“uh, it’s weird because I have no idea who you could be texting, Dean. Are you on Tinder or something?”_

 

Laughably, that worked as an adequate excuse until Dean’s Jenga tower of lies finally came crashing to the floor with a resounding  _JENGA_! Sam caught him mid-conversation with Benny in a motel parking lot while they were debating the efficiency of a firmly-established vampire hierarchy at  4AM. Dean had hung up immediately, looking at Sam as if he was a husband caught cheating by his wife. What ensued afterward nearly got them kicked out of the motel, but neither brother made a move to leave other than Sam marching to the lobby to purchase another room.  ** _  
_**

****

Sam was almost  _unreasonably_  mad to find out about Benny. Dean chalked it up to a long-held grudge and inane jealously. He made sure not to elaborate beyond having a friendship with Benny, so Sam probably felt he was being replaced. The main issue was, of course, _“a vampire, Dean! I know you! You’d never—Do you even hear yourself? They’re one of the most manipulative monsters out there!”_ ** _  
_**

****

That was about a month ago. Now they’re in Wisner, Louisiana, investigating a missing persons case together. There’s still more than enough tension between them, but they’re miraculously still hunting together. Contacting Benny has been way more difficult with Sam constantly ready to pick a fight, so the only time they’ve gotten to talk is when Dean is completely alone. ** _  
_**

****

Dean’s taking a drink of the remains of his coffee—now chad in a new flannel—when he hears the unpleasant sound of a vibration against metal. Turning around, he’s surprised to see Benny has replied already. More often than not, the vampire is fast asleep this time of day, but he’s clearly awake right now.

 

**_[RECEIVED 10:36AM] BENNY: 2 sunny everywher. wht r u doin in my neck of the woods_ **

 

Dean’s eyes crinkle, imagining Benny slowly clicking the same button to type a specific letter. So primitive and tedious to a millennial, but so futuristic and bizarre to Benny. He downs the rest of his coffee before opting to call his friend instead of replying through text, listening to the dial tone for only half a minute before Benny answers. “ _Hey, Dean_ ,” comes a wispy drawl from the speaker.

 

“Morning, Benny. I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Dean saunters over to a trash bin outside the glass doors of the gas station, tossing his empty cup and greasy doggy bag into it before returning to his car to rest in the driver’s seat. “You’re usually conked out by now, everything good?”

 

A rumble of laughter against his ear causes Dean to shiver involuntarily. “ _Mm, yeah. Just couldn’t sleep is all. Stay up all day to heard from you, though_.”

 

While unintentional, the comment makes Dean sigh guiltily. They’d became so accustomed to talking regularly that the recent scarcity of calls, courtesy of Sam, was a noticeable and greatly missed pastime. “Sorry it’s been so long, man...” Before the conversation can turn too dreary, Dean adds playfully, “Hard to get away from the missus.”

 

Benny doesn’t laugh, though. Just clears his throat quietly, politely turned away from the phone, then rasps, “ _How is Sam_?” Despite his choice of words, Dean recognizes he’s asking about the state of relations between the brothers, not Sam exclusively.

 

Shoulders slumping, Dean admits, “Still narrow-minded and stubborn as all hell. Doesn’t seem to matter what I say, he’s constantly trying to start shit with me. It’s exhausting.”

 

“ _Je suis désolé, cher_.” Dean scarcely knows anything beyond ‘hello’ in French, but the vampire sounds remorseful, so that serves as translation by itself. “ _Yknow hearin your voice gets me through the week, but... Hate how I’m stirrin the pot like this. Maybe it’d be better if_...” Benny trails off as if he can’t even bring himself to finish his suggestion. But Dean’s heard enough.

 

“No way. That - That won’t fix any of this. Besides, if Sam didn’t find out, I’d still be sneaking around like some rebellious teenager.” Dean rubs his face stressfully. “And it was relieving, in it’s own way, to come clean. I hate keeping things from him. But now he’s acting so  _childish_.”

Benny takes a moment to simply listen to the calming whoosh of Dean’s lungs, thinking of how much he misses the hunter’s intoxicating scent. “ _Why I got the feelin Sam’s issues extend past regular ol’ hunter prejudices_?”

 

A strange sensation of entrapment causes Dean to pause. How could Benny be so intuitive on top of all his other qualities? “That so? And here I thought all vamps were mindless monsters incapable of critical thinking.”

 

Benny returns the banter. “ _N’ I thought all hunters were ignorant alcoholics incapable of human decency._ ”

 

“Touché.” Dean laughs at his friend’s good humor before returning to his question. “Honestly? Well, to say the least, trust me when I say his anger isn’t exactly unwarranted. As much as I complain about it... It’s really my own fault.”

 

“ _Hear that a lot from you, Dean. Ain’t buyin it for a minute. Not now or ever_.” Benny sounds like he wishes to elaborate further, but instead he continues with, “ _Lemme guess: Sam’s been in a similar spot before ‘n’ you were just as difficult_?”

 

Dean swallows. “Something like that.” He tosses around the idea of explaining the Ruby incident for a few moments before adopting it. Thankfully, the full story only takes approximately twenty minutes to tell.

 

By the conclusion, all Benny can reply with is, “ _Brother, you’ve sure lived a life._ ”

 

“Ha, too many if you ask me.”

 

“ _Sounds like Sam‘s afraid I’m the same as that Ruby character_.  _That I might hurt you_ ,” Benny offers thoughtfully. “ _Which I can’t exactly fault him for, given my... Variety._ ”

 

The hunter doesn’t hesitate to correct him. “Benny, no. You’re nothing like her. Complete polar opposites.” He feels ridiculous for saying this to the person he was defending when Sam made the same point. “Sam would see that if he’d just give you a chance...” Dean glances at the clock, realizing it’s high time he return to the motel. With how long he’s been gone, Sam’s sure to suspect his lingering was influenced by Benny rather than fried donuts and black coffee.

 

Keeping Benny on the line, Dean buckles his seat belt and surveys the parking lot. Changes gears so he can start heading back to motel and deal with Sam’s seemingly endless wrath. And hopefully the case, but it’s unlikely Sam’s gotten much more to go on than they did an hour ago.

 

Of course, Benny can hear his movements and realizes their conversation is likely drawing to an end. “ _Where are ya anyhow_?” he asks, sounding much sleepier than he did a minute ago.

 

“Little town called Wisner. There’s this huge creek people have been disappearing by so we’re investigating. I’ll let you know afterwards what we find, but right now we have no idea what we’re dealing with.”

 

“ _Ain’t you s’pose to be an expert_?”

 

“Between you and me, Benny, I’ve been pretty much winging this whole gig since I was twenty-six,” Dean snickers. “We still need to interview the affected families. That’s bound to get us a lead.”

 

Benny hums. “ _You need anythin I’m not too far past the east of the Mississippi. Just call ‘n’ I’ll be there, alright_?”

Instinctually, Dean becomes defensive. Being forced to pull your own weight (and then some) since childhood and growing up in a hyper-masculine family all but conditioned the need to refuse any sort of help, whether he needed it or not. But at the same time, Dean’s warmed by Benny’s offer... When was the last time someone offered to help him without prompting or sheer force? “I can handle myself,” Dean retorts with a noticeably gruffer voice.

 

It makes it very easy for Benny to visualize the hunter - he’s surely sitting up straighter to make himself look bigger, a hardened look on his pretty face to intimidate.

 

The vampire  _laughs_  at him, snickering,  _“I_ know _you can, but you don’t always need to._..  _Anyhow, you best go save some folks with your brother. ’M goin to sleep._ ”

 

“I’ll call you again as soon as I can.”

 

“ _No hurry, Dean. Good luck with the hunt. Fais attention._ ”

 

Dean hesitates. “Uh, yeah, goodbye, Benny.” They hang up. Dean thumbs his phone for a few seconds before tossing it in the backseat, pondering.

 

Is there any way to change Sam’s mind? Maybe if Dean apologized for keeping Benny a secret, amends could be made. Maybe if he just sucked it up and took a moment to really _talk_  about the situation... Maybe he wouldn’t have to choose? Whenever Sam meets his breaking point, that will undoubtably be his ultimatum: choose. And isn’t that what Dean forced Sam to do when he was sucking down Ruby’s blood by the pint? If Dean was less proud, more willing to dig up old baggage they’ve moved on from but never really  _moved on from_ , maybe Sam would be willing to listen to the voice of reason?

 

Dean’s almost talked himself into doing it when he remembers: Benny doesn’t need to be apologized for. Benny isn’t Ruby, isn’t leading him down a wicked path paved with demon blood and worldwide catastrophe; Benny isn’t intentionally luring Dean away from his brother, lulling him into a false sense of security before backstabbing him. Benny doesn’t maliciously lie for his own personal gain or take advantage of someone’s good intentions and kindness. Benny isn’t a  _monster_  like Ruby, but instead perhaps more human than anyone Dean’s ever met.

 

And what right does Sam have to judge  _him_? He’s the one who’s vouched for ‘good monsters’ before. He’s the one sleeping around with them all the time! He’s the one always whining “ _they’re not hurting anybody_ ” and “ _maybe we should leave this one alone_ ” and “ _it’s not always black and white, Dean_.” And then Dean’s suppose to be the hypocritical one? Of course he is, when is he ever  _not_  in the wrong? He’s suppose to be the cruel, merciless Winchester brother that juvenile monsters check their closet for at night.

 

By the time Dean returns to the motel, he’s worked himself up so much he knows he’ll blow his lid off the second Sam looks at him. He reminds himself that they’re on a case, that lives are at stake, and that he doesn’t want to stoop to Sam’s level.

 

Still, Dean braces himself for some sort of unpleasant look from his little brother when he opens the door. He’d be dumb not to.

 

Instead of looking at him scoldingly for taking so long at the Gas-n-Sip, Sam merely glances up at Dean with a strangely disturbed expression. “I talked to Cate Maloret,” he says quietly.

 

Weeks earlier, Cate Maloret, an adventurous girl as described by her father in the police report, came home after dark raving and hysterical about how  _something_  wrapped itself around one of the missing persons—Cate’s best friend Margot—and dragged her underneath the murky water.

 

The admission doesn’t leave Dean terribly surprised. Sam’s wearing his fed suit, on his laptop with Dad’s journal cracked open next to him. He’s a little pissed Sam didn’t bother waiting for him, especially since his brother probably started walking down to Cate’s house the second the roar of the Impala faded into the distance.

 

“And?”

 

“Uh. She told me...” Sam seems uncomfortable, so beside himself that he’s forgotten he’s supposed to be angry with Dean. “What she saw...” he mumbles.

 

Dean raises his eyebrows as he makes his way closer to the table Sam’s sitting at, unimpressed. “Dude. It couldn’t possibly be that freaky.”

 

Sam stares at Dean for what feels like a full minute before turning his laptop screen around.

 

“...Ursula?”

 

That earns him a scoff. “This is what Cate described to me. She was very specific. Apparently - Apparently one of these... Octopus people, grabbed Margot while they were dipping their feet into the creek. Dragged her under.”

 

Dean blinks dumbly at the screen, only bothering to read a few words. Indian folklore, appearances throughout history, also referred to as sea witches, top half man, bottom half octopus. “How’d one of these things end up in a creek?”

 

Turning the screen towards himself, Sam runs his fingers through his long hair with a sigh. “I mean, it’s connected to a lot of rivers... Eventually it leads to the ocean. That’s... Probably where it came from.”

 

“No, that’s what I mean,” Dean says without thinking, familiar with this type of monster. “They’re native to the Caribbean, so there’s no reason—“

 

“What do you mean they’re native to the Caribbean?”

 

Considering it’s been so long since Sam’s acted this cooperative and polite, Dean curses himself for the slip-up. “Um.” He tries to think of a believable lie, like maybe stumbling upon the folklore accidentally while searching for hentai porn, but Dean’s so tired of lying all the time. “I’ve seen one before.”

 

Sam’s face goes through several different emotions in the span of three seconds. Dean’s worried he’s had a stroke until Sam responds with confusion, “ _Where_?”

 

Dean remembers vividly. Benny and him were traveling together, partnership still tense, when they came across a gloomy lake. Naturally, the hunter desired to wash his face off a bit and didn’t bother expressing this to Benny. It was only when they were a few yards away when the vampire spoke up, saying something like: “I’d stay away from that water if I were you, friend.” Almost no time later, one of those octopus people slunk out of the lake, far more fishy than human with vampire-esque teeth and gray-tinted skin. The experience was jarring, but they had no trouble killing it together. Curiosity trumping cautiousness, Dean asked his companion about the sea witch, earning himself a brief history lesson and an unwanted backstory of how Benny himself had encountered many of them in his pirating days.

 

“In Vegas,” Dean snorts. “Purgatory, Sam. Where the hell else?” He hopes desperately that the mention of his time in Purgatory will shut down any of Sam’s other questions. It certainly has before, though not recently as it’s apparent novelty has worn off.

 

“Of course.” It’s more scoffed than said, irking Dean immediately. Because really,  _where else_? 

 

Rolling his eyes, Dean huffs, “Can we just focus on the case, please?”

 

Instead of defusing the situation, it escalates. Sam laughs as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing, shaking his head. “Focus on the case?” he repeats incredulously. “Yeah, okay. Because that’s exactly what you were doing when you left to get food an hour ago.”

 

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Dean snaps. “Quit being so immature about this.“

 

“ _I’m_  being immature?” Sam shoots up suddenly, chair screeching in protest behind his legs. “You’re constantly going behind my back to talk to—to talk to that va—“

 

“ _Benny_! His name is Benny and he’s the only reason that I’m not still fucking stuck in monster land, scared, alone, and fighting for my life every second of the day!”

 

It’s a low-blow, but Dean can’t bring himself to feel bad as he watches Sam deflate. It’s almost satisfying, considering how he’s trapped his brother in a metaphorical corner. “ _He’s_  the one that got me out and  _he’s_  the one helping me through the adjustment period so could just keep it to yourself for once, Sam,  _once_!”

 

The silence between them is filled exclusively by Dean’s angry, ragged breaths. But when the older Winchester starts to thoughtfully finger his keys, Sam speaks up.

 

“Dean...”

 

“‘No. I can’t, Sam. I can’t do this. The fucking looks and your snide comments. And you’re acting...—like I’m trying to spite you! Stop thinking you know everything. You weren’t there. You don’t know  _anything_.”

 

Sam stays quiet, and Dean knows he can’t possibly continue with this hunt, no matter how interesting it is. He squeezes his car keys, turning around. 

 

“I’m heading East. Take care of this.” 

 

Without intervention, Dean storms out of the motel room and drives for fifty miles before even bothering to retrieve his phone from the backseat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Je suis désolé, cher = I'm sorry, dear.  
> Fais attention = (informal) Be careful.
> 
> boatload of hurt/comfort, smut, and benny taking care of his lil sunflower next chapter (which will also be the last). What'd you think? Please comment if you have a moment, they make my day! Also, so far the perspective (although 3rd person) has revolved around Dean. I’m thinking of having it center around Benny in the 3rd chapter. What do you guys think?


End file.
